


who made you king of anything

by middlecyclone



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Exorcisms, Multi, it's only shane/ryan/sara if you squint but you don't have to squint very hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-06-30 21:32:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15760110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/middlecyclone/pseuds/middlecyclone
Summary: “I think our cat is possessed,” Sara says, voice hushed, and–What.“Obi?” Ryan asks.“No, our other cat,” Sara deadpans. “Yes, Obi!"





	who made you king of anything

**Author's Note:**

> SO. This fic was inspired by the hilariously shell-shocked expression on Shane's face when discussing Obi in the fashion video; clearly Obi has had some ... adjustment issues, and I rolled with that, mostly because I take any excuse to write about cats.
> 
> Title from King of Anything by Sara Bareilles, because my sense of humor is bad.

“Don’t tell Shane,” are the first words out of Sara’s mouth, and Ryan just blinks. Sara has him cornered him in the break room after lunch, and she’s shifting nervously as she grabs him by the sleeve and drags him around the corner, away from the doorway.

“Don’t tell Shane what?” Ryan asks, confused and alarmed.

“I think our cat is possessed,” Sara says, voice hushed, and–

_What._

“Obi?” Ryan asks.

“No, our other cat,” Sara deadpans. “Yes, Obi! At first I thought he was just, y’know, extremely anxious and having trouble settling in, but it’s been well over a month now and he’s not calming down at all! He’s just a little ball of nervous energy and I don’t think he, like, sleeps.”

“Okay, sure,” Ryan says, “but I don’t see how that means he’s possessed. It sounds like he’s just kind of a cat with some behavioral issues.”

“That’s not everything,” Sara tells him. “When I say I don’t think he sleeps, I mean that he _does not sleep_.”

Ryan just stares at her.

“He’s a cat!” Sara hisses. “A _cat!_ ”

“Is that weird?”

“‘Is that weird,’” Sara repeats mockingly, raising her fingers into sardonic little air-quotes. “Yes! Yes, that’s weird! That’s what cats do! They eat and sleep and shit in a box and that’s all! But Obi knocks everything off our bookshelf and hisses at shadows and hides inside our coffee table and I swear, Ryan, that yesterday I saw him _reading_ a _book_!”

“What was the book?”

“Uh, it was a Calvin and Hobbes anthology–that’s not the point!”

“Maybe he likes the pictures,” Ryan says. “Hobbes is a stripey cat just like him. Maybe he’s just looking for a friend!”

Sara glares at him. “If you’re not going to be helpful–”

“No, no, sorry–”

“I’ll just leave–”

“I said I was sorry!”

“So you’ll help me?” Sara asks.

“I mean, I’m more of like, a dog person,” Ryan says. “I don’t know how I can help.”

“Well, you’re the demon guy around town,” Sara says. “If you can’t help I don’t think anyone can.”

“Whoa, now, I don’t know how I feel about _that_ nickname–”

“I want you to exorcise him.”

“What?”

Sara folds her arms. “I know you know how.”

“I’m not actually a priest,” Ryan says, “that’s kind of, like, one of the main pre-reqs.”

“Well, my cat isn’t actually a human, so I think you’ll do,” Sara says.

“You don’t believe in ghosts, or demons, or any of this stuff,” Ryan points out. “Why the sudden change of heart?”

“I haven’t slept in _weeks_ ,” Sara says, her voice rising in pitch until she’s reaching a register that Ryan swears only dogs could hear. “He keeps crawling into our bed at 3 A.M. and biting my hair! And when we lock him out he _claws_ at the _door_ –”

“Okay, okay,” Ryan says, “I’ll do my best, but no promises.”

And that’s how he ends up at Shane and Sara's apartment, after work that same day, trying to exorcise a fucking cat.

“You know how to do this, right?” Sara asks.

“You asked me!” Ryan squawks. “Why did you ask me if you didn’t think I knew how?”

“I mean, honestly? Nobody else would ever believe me. You’re an easy sell.”

Ryan shoots a glare at her. She remains unfazed. “So do you?”

“Well,” Ryan admits, “not really–”

“Ha!”

“I mean,” Ryan explains, “the problem is that most real life exorcisms are total bullshit. Most people who get exorcisms don’t really need exorcisms, they need, like, mental health care. And I tried to look up how to exorcise cats specifically, but all I found was a really shitty Quora post.”

“So, what,” Sara asks, “you’re gonna wing it?”

“Not exactly,” Ryan hedges, “I did find a video on YouTube that was a pretty decent exorcism tutorial, but it was uh… well… a furby.”

“A _furby_?”

“You know,” Ryan says, “those weird ‘90s toys that talked all creepy. Those guys.”

“I know what a fucking furby is,” Sara says, “I just can't believe you compared Obi to one.”

“Look,” Ryan says, exasperated, “do you want my help or not?”

Sara takes a deep breath. “You’re right,” she says, “I’m sorry, just–do your thing, I guess.”

“Okay,” Ryan says, “right,” and gets started.

According to his research, all you really need for an exorcism is some holy objects and the proper rites, but if Ryan is going to be fucking around with demons he wants all the protection he can get.

“Wear this,” he says, tossing a cross necklace at Sara. He’s already wearing his own, obviously.

“I’m Jewish,” she says reflexively, but pulls it over her head anyway.

“Okay, okay, okay,” Ryan mutters to himself, “what next,” and starts lighting the votive candles he brought in his backpack, arranging them in a circle as he goes. After readying his flask of holy water, the only thing left to do is the exorcism itself.

“Can you get Obi?” Ryan asks. “He needs to be in the middle of the circle.”

“Yeah, uh, sure,” Sara says, “I think he’s in my closet, just one second,” but before she can go looking Obi ambles out of their bedroom, tail raised straight up behind him, and trots over to the circle, sitting down dead center without prompting of any sort.

“Well, that was eerie as shit,” Ryan says.

“That’s what I’ve been saying!” Sara hisses. “Something isn’t right!”

“Well, then,” Ryan says, and pulls out the pages he’d printed out from Catholic.org. “Here goes nothing, I guess…

 _“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii,”_ he chants, reading off the printouts, only stumbling slightly over the Latin.

“Oh, cool,” Sara interrupts, “this is just like how they did it on _Supernatural!_ ”

“ _You_ watch _Supernatural_?”

“I mean, not anymore, obviously,” Sara says, flushing, “but I was 16 once!”

Obi meows.

“Right,” Ryan says, and uncaps his holy water, just in case, “back to it, I suppose,” and he takes a breath to start reading again.

Of course, that’s when Shane walks in.

“You’ll never believe the weird conversation I just heard–oh hi, Ryan,” he says loudly as he bursts through the door of the apartment. “What are you doing here?”

Ryan, holding an open flask of holy water above Obi’s head, just stares at Shane. “Uhhh,” he says, searching desperately for a valid excuse, but he comes up blank.

Sara, behind him, starts frantically blowing out candles.

Shane, being _not an idiot_ , picks up on the fact that some highly suspicious behavior is currently in progress.

“Wait,” he says, “are you guys–”

“Definitely not doing an exorcism,” Sara says wildly. “Nope! Definitely not that!”

“Guys, what the _fuck_ ,” Shane says, and he’s usually so easygoing that Ryan is startled to hear a note of genuine anger in his voice.

“It’s not what it looks like!” Ryan says frantically. “We were just–uh–kissing–”

_“What?”_

“Yes!” Sara says, agreeing, “I’m just, uh–cheating on you, yes, that’s what’s happening here–”

“Sara, please.”

“That’s what the candles are for,” she says, “they’re mood lighting!”

“Very romantic,” Ryan adds, “for our–cheating–”

“Bullshit,” Shane says, crossing his arms over his chest. “You guys were trying to exorcise my cat.”

“ _Our_ cat,” Sara corrects, “and–no! We weren’t! Look!”

She grabs Ryan by the shoulders and yanks him roughly towards her, pulling him down into a kiss that’s less of a true kiss and more just Sara mashing her lips roughly onto his. Both their eyes remain open, fixed on Shane, waiting to see if he buys it.

He doesn’t buy it.

“That was possibly the least romantic kiss I have ever seen in my entire life,” Shane says drily, “and I’m including every episode of _The Bachelor_ in that. Also, I think we should probably talk about why you guys think Sara cheating on me would be less emotionally devastating than you performing an exorcism–”

“How dare you! Our _love_ ,” Sara says, overcommitting to the bit, “is _real_ ,” and then she kisses Ryan again. She’s trying a lot harder this time; her eyes are closed, eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks, and she threads a hand through his hair, turning his head gently into a better angle before slipping him some tongue.

Ryan closes his eyes then, too, feeling that if Sara’s overcommitting to the bit he should probably follow her lead, but just as he starts to get into it there’s a huge warm hand on the back of his neck and Shane is dragging them apart, rolling his eyes in irritation but a fondly amused smirk curling the edges of his lips.

“Unnecessary, guys,” he says. “And actually maybe a little _too_ convincing this time? Just explain yourselves, please.”

“Our cat is cursed,” Sara blurts.

“He’s not cursed.”

“He does _laps_ at midnight! And chewed holes in six different pairs of my socks! And when I came home last night he had somehow turned Netflix on and was watching _Gilmore Girls_!”

“I–what?”

“ _Gilmore Girls,_ Shane! Motherfucking _Gilmore Girls_!”

“Mrow,” Obi interjects.

All three of them turn to stare at the cat. He stares back up at them, hazel eyes wide, looking like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth.

“Maybe he just likes Alexis Bledel,” Shane says. “Maybe he just appreciates fast-paced banter and a wholesome mother-daughter relationship.”

Obi lifts a leg over his head and begins to lick himself.

“Yeah, somehow I doubt that,” Sara says drily.

“Well, somehow I doubt that he’s an evil cursed demon ghost zombie cryptid, or whatever you gullible hooligans are theorizing about this time!”

“But you have to admit,” Sara says, “he’s been acting _really_ weird, right?”

“I mean, I’ve never had a cat before,” Shane says, “I just thought maybe this is what they’re like."

“It really, really isn’t,” Sara says.

“I don’t know, I have to be honest with you,” Shane says, “I think he’s just stupid, Sara.”

“ _Mrow_ ,” Obi interjects again.

“Don’t bully him,” Ryan says. “He’s clearly very smart. He can work Netflix!”

“Maybe he just uses Alexa, though,” Sara says sagely. “You don’t have to be smart to use Alexa.”

“He’s a _cat_ ,” Ryan says, “he can’t talk.”

“Oh, that reminds me,” Shane says. “That’s the weird conversation I wanted to tell you about. These guys in my Lyft share kept talking about how they heard a stray cat talking to them.”

Ryan perks up right away. “Really? Did they have a recording of it?”

“Well, no,” Shane says, “because cats can’t talk, remember? These guys were just crazy.”

“Well, what did the cat say?” Sara asks.

“I don’t remember,” Shane says, “something about someone being dead? Timmy or Tommy or whatever, tell Tom Tildrum that Tim Toldrum is dead, something dumb like that. Like I said, they were nuts.”

“Oh, damn,” Obi says then, and Shane drops his phone.

“Did you just _talk_?” he says, incredulous.

“Did you say Tim Toldrum?” Obi asks. “Wow, dude.”

“Your cat is talking!” Ryan shrieks. “Shane, man, your fucking cat is fucking _talking!_ ”

“Yes, I’m aware,” Shane says, “I can hear him, too.”

“Oh,” Ryan says, “holy _fuck_ –”

“For realsies, though,” Obi says. “Timmy’s dead?”

“I mean, allegedly,” Shane says, and then kneels down to get closer to Obi, leaning in, looking at him sharply. “Why?”

“Because if he’s dead, then I’m king of the cats,” Obi informs him.

There is a long, _long_ , beat of silence.

“Oh yeah, right,” Sara says, “like that weird old fairy tale. Aren’t you supposed to run up a chimney now and go rule all the cats or something?”

“You guys don’t have a chimney,” Ryan says, the words automatic. His brain feels kind of like it’s on fire.

“Of course we don’t have a chimney,” Shane scoffs, “this is an apartment complex in southern California.”

Obi yawns, then, his mouth opening startlingly wide to show a soft pink tongue and sharp white teeth. “Boring,” he says primly. “Being king is a thankless job, and I like it here. There’s snacks and toys and cuddles and nobody makes me worry about, like, _legislation_.”

Sara gets down on her knees and looks deep into Obi’s eyes. “You kind of–stressed me out there, though, dude,” she says. “Why were you being so weird?”

Obi does a little stretch that’s almost like what a cat shrug might be like, if cats could shrug. “I was bored.”

“Obi, you know we love you, little man,” Shane says, “but now that we know you’re like, sentient and all that jazz, you have got to chill.”

“You ate my socks,” Sara says. “ _Six pairs.”_

“Sorry,” Obi says softly. “I didn’t mean to cause trouble.”

“I mean, it’s okay,” Shane says, “you’re still a cat, but–”

“I thought you were possessed!” Sara butts in. “You were so weird. I was _worried_ about you. I thought you were evil!”

“I promise to break less things,” Obi says, “if you leave more books off the top shelf. I only knocked them down because I wanted to read Narnia.”

“Wait, why did you want to read Narnia?” Ryan asks despite himself.

Obi turns a wide topaz stare on him. “Because there’s a big cat in it,” he explains. “I like Aslan. Now that is a lion who gets shit _done_.”

“Right,” Ryan says shrilly, “well, obviously, of course, why not–”

“Shane,” Sara says, looking up from where she’s scratching Obi behind his ears, “I think Obi broke Ryan. Can you work on that?”

“Oh,” Shane says, “right, yeah,” and he pushes himself to his feet with a groan and a loud popping noise.

“Jesus, dude, was that your knees?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m old, save it–”

Shane just bends down and wraps Ryan in a tight, unexpected hug.

“Dude,” Ryan says, his face muffled in Shane’s shoulder, “what–”

“I’m calming you down, buddy,” Shane explains.

“Well, it’s not really working!”

“I said fix him,” Sara says, “not crush him to death–”

“I’m showing grounding physical affection!”

“I do not feel grounded, I feel weird and kind of sweaty–”

“Yeah, I can tell, you’re very damp–”

“Hey!”

“I’m just saying, I thought you were doing a great job working through your no-homo bullshit, I’m very disappointed in this sudden regression–”

“I’m not _regressing_ , I just can’t _breathe_ with your disgusting armpit in my face–”

“Guys,” Sara says, “save it,” and she stands up again, holding Obi in her arms like he’s a baby and not an atypically chatty feline. “Ryan, do you feel better?”

“A little,” Ryan admits, because for all he had complained it actually had been somewhat comforting to feel Shane’s arms around him.

“Perfect,” Shane says dramatically, “my work is done here!”

“No it isn’t,” Sara says. “Go order pizza or something, we’re having a movie night.”

“We are?” Ryan asks. “I mean–not that I’m inviting myself or anything, I can just–”

“Nope,” Sara says, popping the ‘p,’ “don’t you dare leave, you get me a beer and then scooch your little butt over here and watch TV with me and Obi.”

Ryan takes a deep breath, not exactly delighted about sitting next to the weird cat, but he figures he’ll have to get used to him eventually, so now is as good a time as any to start.

He grabs two beers out of their fridge and then settles onto the middle of the couch, Sara tucked up on his right with Obi in her lap, and Shane plopping down heavily on his left a few minutes later.

Obi pads over onto Ryan’s lap then, and Ryan tenses but he’s honestly adorable and soft so he can’t truly be too freaked out about it. Sara grabs his hand and squeezes it supportively, before guiding it behind Obi’s ears.

“He likes being petted right there,” she says. “And under his chin, too.”

“Okay, yeah,” Ryan says, “I can do that.”

“I forgive you, by the way,” Shane says. “You know, for exorcising my fucking cat.”

“I’m not sorry about that,” Ryan says. “I was kind of right!”

“ _Barely_ ,” Shane snarks, and then his hand drops to Ryan’s knee and squeezes it sympathetically through his jeans, just the once. “But also, like, thanks for not running out of here screaming. You’ve really grown as a person since I met you.”

Ryan doesn’t know what to say to that, so he just takes a sip of his beer, and it’s enough for the moment. There’s a weird energy here all of a sudden, ever since he’d _kissed Sara_ , but it hadn’t been real, so he’s not sure why all the tension, except–

Maybe–

In his lap, Obi curls up into a little ball, his tail tucked around himself and his head resting on his front paws. “Enough chitchat,” he says, purring. “Alexa, play _Gilmore Girls_.”

**Author's Note:**

> Obi in this story is, of course, based on the classic British folktale found [here](https://www.pitt.edu/~dash/type6070b.html#kingjacobs), because I thought it was fun.


End file.
